The Girl With The Harp
by Mimi890
Summary: Helena Snow had always been a quiet child, most of her time playing on her harp alone in her room. But when king Robert Baratheon visits Winterfell for the anniversary of the death of Lyanna Stark, all hell breaks loose and Helena is forced to flee for her Life.
1. Prologue

Prologue

You could hear the birds singing in the trees, as if they were congratulating the couple that was wedded beneath the canopy. The moment they said the words and were bound together the love was shining through their eyes. Though they were both aware of the tragedy that love caused, in that moment nothing else existed besides the two of them. The High Septon that held the ceremony had seen many couples throughout his life but few who was so much in love as the ones before him. It was without a doubt a happy moment but dread awaited them around the corner, the old man knew this. As the two lovers kissed he feared for their future, they if anyone deserved to be happy.

XxX

Far away from the joyful moment another man had bitter thoughts. His father was dead, his brother was dead and his sister kidnapped. He and his little brother was all that was left of their once happy family. A war was coming, which meant that the realm would soon bleed and many innocents would be killed simply because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time. He wanted to stop it but knew that wasn't possible. His best friend, his sister's betrothed, had started it. He called the banners of his house and went berserk through the enemies ranks. Sometimes you could think he started the war for the battles rather than getting his iancée back.

The young man sighed, though he was barely a man grown he felt so much older, but he wanted his sister back and he had to fight for it. He hoped it would soon be over and justice would prevail in the kingdoms once more.

 **EIGHT MONTHS LATER**

A tall lean man stood over his foe. He bled from many places and suspected he had more than a few broken bones but he was alive, unlike his enemy. With a huge hole in his breastplate anyone could see he was dead. As always victory was sweet, especially now when it meant he once again could hold his beloved in his arms. He could still recall that pain and anger when they had found out she was gone, but not anymore. Soon, soon he would see her again.

He kicked his fallen foe into the river, armor and all, and watched him disappear under the surface. The current was strong by the Trident and he knew the body would travel quite the distance despite its weight. Afterwards he turned around and walked a few steps and then all the wounds he had suffered began to hurt. He fell to his knees while grunting in pain. He tried to get to his horse but soon realized it was in vain, his wounds were too severe. He cursed, the blasted kidnapper was finally dead and he was too weak to ride. He cursed again and again and again and were just the punched his knuckles bloody when he heard one of his soldiers shouting and soon strong hands helped him through the battlefield to his tent. There he lay down and a healer was called to his side. Irritated he told him to fetch his most trusted friend, his sister's younger brother, the Warden of The North.

XxX

She knew she would die, she knew even before her water broke she knew. It was a feeling that had lingered after she heard about her husband's death; she knew she would not see her child grow up. It made her sad to think about her child's future, without a mother and a father.

Now when she lay there screaming and pushing for the child to come out she felt her body breaking and her blood flowing out of her in rivers, but it mattered not, as long as her child was safe. When the child finally left her womb she laid, blood still flowing, hearing the little one screaming. Suddenly the door flew open and a figure emerged.

"Lyanna."

He called her name and she wondered if she was dreaming, he could not be here, and yet he was. Her shy and sweet little brother.

"Ned? Is that really you?" Her voice was no more than a whisper and she understood she did not have long. "I want to be brave, but... I don't want to die."

He had tears in his eyes. Her beloved brother, so much responsibility on so young shoulders and she was to give him even more. She had no choice.

"No! No, you're not going to die! We're going home to Winterfell, Benjen is waiting for us there so you can't die, Lyanna."

"Ned." She whispered as he leaned closer. "Her name is Jeanaerys Targaryen, protect her from Robert. You know he will kill her. Promise me, Ned, promise me." She said as the last breath passed her lips, and then she was dead.

He looked at her with all the pain in the world squeezing his heart. Then he looked at his newborn niece and picked her up. Little Jeanaerys had fallen asleep but opened her eyes when she felt a new person's warmth. They were violet, just like her fathers, but her hair and features were all Stark. Eddard felt a feeling of pure love when he looked upon her as he held her close. Again he looked at his dead sister.

"I promise, Lya. I'll keep her safe. No one will harm her, but she can't go by her real name." He caressed the baby's head, she had fallen asleep again. "You will be known as Helena Snow, little one, my bastard daughter. You will not know have an easy life, you will be scorned and mocked, but you will also be strong and brave as your mother and just as loved." carefully he placed a kiss on her small forehead, before he draped her within his cape and left the Tower of Joy.


	2. The Girl In The Window

**Chapter 1: The Girl In The Window**

A sweet melody was echoing through the halls of Winterfell. All its inhabitants knew where it was coming from, who it was that could create such beautiful music. It was not lady Stark, neither was it her daughter. No, the music came from a young girl with raven black hair and violet eyes. She sat by the window in her little room in the great keep, humming while her fingers danced across the harp strings. The song was a hymn about a woman wishing for a war to end. It had been one of her favorite pieces when she was a child; it was beautiful yet easy to play. After she played the last note she put the harp on the table. Looking out on the courtyard she saw her older brother, Robb, sparring with her father's ward. She never liked Theon Greyjoy, he made her feel very uneasy and sometimes he looked at her in a way that made her shudder. She knew that look, it was the same look he game the serving girls when there was feasts in the great hall. She closed the shutters then picked up her harp again and began playing The Dornish Man's Wife.

Eddard heard how his daughter began on a new tune and smiled. She had a real musical talent, beautiful and dangerous. He looked at the message in his hand once again; it came from King's Landing, from Robert. He knew the king would come to Winterfell, as he had done every year since Lyanna died, to pay his respects on her deathday. It was nothing new yet he felt fear, as he had every year. As Helena grew she became more and more like her real father, with a feline face and slim built. Thank the gods that she had her mother's coloring, except for the eyes, it masked a little of the Targaryen features but he always wondered if it was enough. Despite what everyone thought, Robert was not a stupid man. He was a drunk and a pervert, yes, but not stupid. He crumbled the parchment in his hand and threw it in the fire; he watched at it burn remembering the bloody bodies of princess Elia and her children when they were presented to Robert that day at Kings Landing. 'I see only Dragon spawn!' at that moment he hated the one he had called friend. Lyanna's death had brought them closer again but Ned still kept his distance, for Helena's sake.

A knock on the door brought him back to reality. His wife, Lady Catelyn of house Tully, walked in and put a hand on his arm.

"What is it, my love?" She said with a worried look in her blue eyes. "I can see you are worrying about something, you left the bedchamber so suddenly this morning."

Ned stared into the fire, wondering how he should explain it this year, if he would tell her about Helena or not. When they first married they had only met once and he did not trust Catelyn entirely so he did not tell her the truth. He told her Helena was his bastard and he was going to take her back to Winterfell. He would never forget the look on her face; shock, betrayal and disappointment. At that moment he betrayed the honor he was so proud of and he would do it again if he had to, for Helena's sake.

"Robert is coming to Winterfell. He said.

"But he comes every year does he not? Why are you so worried? We have enough money to hold a feast."

When he didn't answer Catelyn put her arms around his waist ad leaned her body against his chest. He put his arms around her and held her tight while he once again thought; for Helena's sake.

Helena played her harp until night fell and her fingers were sore, only then did she put it away and went to bed, as usual she hummed a lullaby to herself before she fell asleep. She didn't remember when she got that habit but as the music lover she was she quite liked it so she didn't dwell on it. But sometimes she wondered where she had learned it from. No one had bothered singing her lullabies when she was little, not even her father. Though it was a lovely tune that chased away night terrors, her eyelids began to close and sleep overtook her.

The scenery was familiar but she knew she had never been in this place before. High, dark towers loomed over her and huge creatures flew over the tops. Those creatures, she realized, were dragons. Their scales shone in all colors possible, they were as beautiful as they were deadly. An earthquake startled her and she turned around, just the see how a volcano erupted. Lava flowed down the mountain and huge rocks were spit from the crater, rain down over the city. She heard screams of agony and terrified cries of children. Tears started to fall from her lilac eyes, she wanted it to stop. It was as if she felt their pain. She yelled for it to stop but of course it didn't help. A shriek behind her silenced her and she met the fiery gaze of a enormous black dragon, on its back a knight in black armor sat. His head was crowned with silver locks, reaching his shoulders, and his eyes were the same soft violet as her own.

Helena opened her eyes and sat up. She knew she dreamt about something odd, something that felt important, but she could not remember what. She sighed, it was not the first time and she was sure it wouldn't be the last either. Helena knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so she climbed out of bed and began dressing herself. When her simple blue dress was in place she opened her shutters and let the light of the dawn fall on her skin. She saw the day was going to be beautiful and she already knew the perfect song with which she would celebrate. She fetched her harp and sat down by the window then began playing Hymn To The Winter.

 **Authors Note:**

 **Hello, everybody! Mimi890 here. Thanks for reading my story and I hope you'll enjoy it. However I have some bad news, I will be going on holiday for a week which means I cannot begin working on a new chapter until 25/9. However if you send me any reviews I will answer them and I'm open for suggestions regarding the story. Also special thanks to Anime Princess for sending me my first review ever, you're great.**

 **Please favorite and subscribe and happy reading**

 **Mimi890**


	3. The Forlorn Beauty

**Chapter 2: The Forlorn Beauty**

Helena sat in the great hall and silently broke her fast. All the servants ate together with Lord Stark, it was uncommon but her father always insisted on it. It was nice, hearing the joyful chatter of people, because even though Helena normally kept quiet she liked hearing other people talk. As she listened she heard from ser Rodrik that her brother Bran slowly but surely got better and better with the bow, and from Mikken she heard about the horse that needed a new shoe. Things Helena never would have known if she did not eat in the great hall. Sure, she could go and talk to them herself but that was not Helena's way. Some may call her brooding and maybe she was but that was just her; quiet, careful and observing. Sometimes she wished she was different, energetic and cheerful like Arya or maybe shy and romantic like Sansa. She was neither. She liked to be alone and did not swoon over handsome knights and heroic princes. She played the songs, she did not believe in them. Brooding, aye, that was Helena Snow, bastard daughter of Ned Stark and some unknown woman. She wondered sometimes what would have happened if her father hadn't taken her in. Would she be a beggar somewhere or maybe she would work as a whore, pleasuring lords and knights for the sake of living. She shuddered. Her father spared her from such a fate and she would be eternally grateful. She glanced at the high table where he sat with his wife and trueborn children. They laughed and were so happy; Helena knew she never could be a part of that happiness. She felt the same sadness she always felt when she faced this fact. She sighed, stood and left the great hall.

XxX

Catelyn saw her go. Her husband's bastard, Helena Snow, forlorn and beautiful, a blot in her eye. She would never forget the sight of Ned holding another woman's child in his arms and the care he treated the babe with. She loved her husband but she had never truly forgiven him for taken the girl home to Winterfell. She had often begged Ned to send her away and he always refused, saying he would not cast out his own blood. So for fourteen years she held out, avoiding the bastard. But of course she could not avoid hearing the sweet melody of a silver harp sounding throughout Winterfell, a constant reminder of the player's presence. When the figure of the girl vanished from her sight Catelyn relaxed a little. She glanced at her husband who had a thoughtful expression on his face. He was restless, she knew, because the king would arrive in a few weeks. It was a mystery to her why Ned did not looked forward to meeting Robert, they were as close as brothers after all, and it rather looked like he wished his childhood friend would stay in King's Landing and not come to Winterfell, ever. She did not understand it at all, not that she looked forward to it, Robert was not the same man he used to be but still, that was no reason for Ned to avoid him. Oh yes, she had asked why but he never gave a proper response.

"Arya!" Her eldest daughter's voice pulled her out from her thoughts. Sansa glared at her sister with a stain of food on her face.

"Arya, apologize to your sister, right now!" Catelyn said firmly. Her youngest daughter smirked and gave a halfhearted apology before running out the hall with laughter following her. Catelyn shook her head and turned to her husband, he had not moved an inch.

XxX

King Robert Baratheon, first of his name, king of the Andals and the First men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm was not happy. His wife, Cersei Lannister, was once again complaining about the cold. Lyanna never would have wailed like the blonde whom the realm called queen, no she would be happy visiting her childhood home. In truth, he did not want Cersei to come with him on the trip to Winterfell but he also did not dare leave her in charge in King's Landing. She was like a poison infecting anything she touches, he suspected the city would rot while he was away, no it was better he took her and the children with him even if she was irritating.

He wished they would arrive soon so he could have some decent food to eat. While Robert did anything but starve he longed for a feast in the Great Hall of Winterfell, Ned was a generous host and an even better friend. And brother to the love of his life, even after all these years Robert still loved Lyanna. He could still see her dark hair and grey eyes every time he closed his eyes, then he would feel devastated knowing she was gone, taken by Rhaegar fucking Targaryen. That inbred bastard that not only was married already but also had two children. He stole her away and the realm bled for it. And now he was dead, crushed by Robert's own war hammer. The sound of bones crushing and the life draining from his lilac eyes were Robert's sweetest memory. But after all was said and done Lyanna was still taken from him, this time by the stranger.

The only thing good about Lyanna's death was that Robert now had a reason to visit his best friend so often. The journey from King's Landing to Winterfell was a long one and it probably would have been much faster to travel by sea but for some reason Cersei refused to set foot on a boat, he didn't know why and really didn't care but it was irritating that trip that could have been two weeks now doubled in time. It just became another thing about his wife Robert didn't like.

XxX

Sansa listened delightfully how her sister played on her harp. Despite her mother's warnings about how bastard wee not to be trusted she loved listening to Helena's music. While Helena didn't dream about knights and princes they were both as interested in songs and histories. Arya and Sansa were like fire and water while Helena was as much as a lady as Sansa and so more fun to spend time with, despite her lady mother. At the moment she was playing one of Sansa's favorites; Jenny Of Oldstones. The redhead closed her eyes and imagined the lowborn girl whom the young Targaryen prince fell in love with. The tragic tale of the two lovers always made Sansa cry. How wonderful if she could experience such pure love.

When the last note quieted down, she opened her eyes and looked at her sister.

"If only I could play as good as you." She sighed. "Then the suitors would line from Winterfell to White Harbor."

Helena laughed.

"Don't worry, little sister. You don't need to play the harp to get many suitors. One look at you and they would fight to the death for your hand."

Sansa giggled.

"You think so?"

"No, I know so."


	4. The Royal Visit

**Chapter Three: The Royal visit**

The royal party was an impressive sight. Knight after knight rode through the gates of Winterfell, their armors shone in the sunlight and the banners danced in the wind. Bran's eyes were wide with excitement; that will be me one day, he thought. The crown prince came into view and behind him a giant of a man. His helmet had the shape of a dog and made him look even more frightening. A minute later, the king came and Bran's first thought were; poor horse. The kind was fat, even fatter than he were the year before. He certainly didn't look like the great warrior who slayed the dragon. Actually, he didn't look like he could lift a warhammer in a million years. Jamie Lannister came next and he looked like a knight should do. His armor was golden, decorated with lions at the breastplate. A carriage that undoubtedly carried the queen and her children came last, it looked so impractical that it made Bran winch.

The king dismounted his horse, and you could almost hear it's sigh of relief, and looked at Bran's father.

"You've become fat."

Ned glanced down at the king, took in his massive body and lifted his eyebrow. Bran rolled his eyes. Every year it was the same joke, it wasn't funny anymore. But none of the two old friends seemed to mind as Robert's laughter echoed through the courtyard.

"God, Ned! One year is way too long. What have you been up to?"

"Guarding the North, your grace. As always."

Robert turned to the woman beside his friend.

"Cat, you grow more beautiful for each year."

"Your grace."

"Now let's see your children." Bran saw how the king turned to his eldest brother. "You must be, Robb."

"Yes, your grace.

"Good lad." Robert moved to Sansa. "My, aren't you a beauty."

She curtsied. "Thank you, our grace."

Next was Arya, who also curtsied though more clumsy. Bran tensed as the king came before him.

"Let's see your muscles." He showed him. "Still want to be a knight?"

"Yes, your grace."

Robert nodded before turning to Ned again.

"Now let's go to the crypts, Ned."

The queen, who had exited the carriage while her husband greeted the Starks, frowned.

"We have traveled far, my love. Surely the dead can wait."

The king ignored her. "Ned!"

With a bow to the queen, The lord of Winterfell followed his king.

"Your grace," Catelyn addressed the queen. "Let me show you to your chambers."

Without a glance at Bran or his siblings she followed his mother with the royal children trailing behind her.

XxX

Ned followed the king though the rows of long dead Starks until they came to the statue of his sister. They stood in silence as Robert caressed her cold stone cheek.

"I still think you should have buried her under the sun. It's too damn cold down here!"

Ned bowed his head but stood firm.

"She was a Stark of Winterfell, this is where she belongs."

"No," Robert whispered. "She belonged with me."

Ned knew better to answer that, whatever he said it would still be the wrong thing to say. The king didn't take his eyes from Lyanna's stoneface.

"It doesn't look like her. She was much more beautiful." His tone changed. "I kill him each night, again and again. I cut him, I beat him, I drown him but he still continues to haunt me."

He was angry now, Ned could tell. Despite his weight, Robert's fury hadn't changed. Ned shivered when he thought of Helena's fate would the king ever find out. She was his nemesis and neither of them knew it.

"Rhaegar is dead, your grace. He's gone, as is the rest of the Targaryens."

"Not all of them. Viserys and Daenerys still lives beyond the narrow sea."

Helena's uncle and aunt, Ned thought. Aloud he said; "A green boy and a child. They are of no importance."

Robert turned to him. "They are Targaryens! That is enough reason for them to die, even if they are babes at their mother's breast every single one with Targaryen shall perish from this world." His eyes shone with hate so intense that Ned almost recoiled.

He decided it was time to change the subject.

"How is Jon?"

Robert sighed and turned to leave the crypts, Ned walking beside him.

"Good, as usual." He said in a cheery tone. "He seems to be immune to ageing and thank the gods for that; I don't know what I'd do without him."

Silently they left the dead to their rest and went to the keep.

XxX

Helena sat at the low table together with Sansa and Jeyne Poole. Neither of the girls really talked about anything interesting but she liked to see her little sister smile. A booming laugh could be heard behind her; it was the king. Helena didn't have a good impression of the man. Wasn't he in Winterfell to pay his respects to his beloved Lyanna? How could be flaunt around with a table wench on his lap if he truly was in mourning? A hypocrite and a disgrace that was what he was. Of course, she could never say something like that. He was the king and she was a bastard.

Suddenly Robb stood up and happily proclaimed; "How about some music to entertain our royal guests?"

Robert turned his gaze from the woman on his lap.

"A wonderful idea, lad. Who'll do the honors?"

"How about my sister? She plays the harp."

Helena looked shocked at Robb. Play in front of the royal family? She? A bastard? It was unbelievable to say the least, but the king seemed eager to hear her play.

"Is that so? Well, let's hear it, lass!"

Helena stood and took one of the minstrels harp. As she took a seat in the middle of the room, she thought about what she should play. She glanced at Sansa, with that shy smile and auburn locks, her beautiful little sister. She had decided. Gracefully she moved her fingers over the strings.

 _High in the halls_

 _Of the kings who are gone._

She doesn't notice that the king have gone pale.

 _Jenny would dance_

 _With her ghosts._

Something seems to have dawned to the fat man.

 _The ones she had lost_

 _And the ones she had found and the ones_

 _Who'd love her the most._

Sansa smiled that smile that made her face shine. And Jeyne shed heavy tears for the tragic tale.

 _And she never wanted to leave._

 _Never wanted to leave._

 _Never wanted to le-eave._

 _Never wanted to leave._

A roar from the king made her stop and confused look to the high table.

"Who are you, girl?!" His face was red under the thick beard and now he truly lived up to his house's words; Our's is the fury.


	5. The Dragonspawn

**Chapter Four: The Dragonspaw**

The hall was absolutely silent; no one dared to say anything. The king looked like he was about to murder someone, and that someone seemed to be Helena.

"I won't ask you again, girl." He growled. "Who are you?"

Helena, brooding and forlorn Helena, swallowed. She felt a shiver of fear down her spine.

"I-I'm Helena Snow, your grace." She bowed her head.

"Look at me!" Robert yelled.

She wasn't brave enough to do anything else than obey. She lifted her head and saw how he was watching her. She also noticed how her father shifted in his seat, looking around as if he was searching for an escape route.

"Am I to believe you are Ned's bastard?"

"Yes, your grace." Helena nodded.

Robert scoffed. "If you are a Stark then I'm a Martell." He turned his head and yelled. "Kingslayer!"

Jamie Lannister left his place behind his sister.

"Throw this whench in the dungeons!"

"Robert!" Her father yelled as ser Jamie lead the shocked Helena from the hall.

XxX

Ned was devastated. Fourteen years he had hidden her and an ignorantly innocent word from his son had exposed everything. He had no doubt that Robert saw Rhaegar in Helena the moment she began playing, and with those eyes and features she might as well have a sign saying 'Targaryen* around her neck. Helena's bastard title had been an excellent excuse to keep her out of Robert way. Ned knew that he now was branded as a traitor. His only comfort was that Catelyn and the children world be alright, they didn't know anything after all. But Helena, she would lose her head and there was nothing he could do. He was confined in his chambers and solemnly looked out through the open window.

A knock on the door made him turn around and ser Rodrik came in.

"Ser Rodrik, what can I do for you?" The man looked pained at his liege lord.

"My lord, please don't jest. The whole castle is in disarray after what happened at the feast. What in the seven hells is going on?"

An idea began forming in Ned's head.

"Rodrik, would you like to save an innocent life?"

The man looked taken aback.

"Surely, lady Catelyn and the children will be alright?"

"Yes, but Helena will not. Rodrik, she has never hurt anyone, her birth simply was at an unfortunate time. Please, help her."

"My lord, I'm not sure I understand what you mean. Why was she imprisoned in the first place?"

Ned sighed. "I don't have time to tell you, but take her to Howland Reed, he can explain everything. Please, Rodrik, save my daughter."

Ser Rodrik nodded.

"Helena is a sweet girl. I'll make sure she's safe."

"Thank you, my friend."

"But, my lord, what about you?"

"Don't worry about me, this is my punishment and I will not turn away from it."

XxX

Sansa sat in the chamber she shared with Arya, as said sister sat cross-legged on the floor. The silence was suffocating but she couldn't think of anything to say. In the end it was Arya who said something first.

"Why do you think the king arrested Helena? I mean she didn't do anything wrong, right?"

"I really have no idea, Arya."

The younger girl nodded and didn't say anything else, neither did Sansa.

Xxx

Robert was fuming. He had no doubt in his mind that the girl was Rhaegar's daughter. She looked so much like him to be anyone else's. However if that was true then Ned had lied to him all this time. Unforgiveable, his head would roll for this. Right after Robert crushed the skull of that Dragonspawn.

XxX

Helena sat alone in the dark, cold cell. She didn't know

why she was there. Was it something she did? It couldn't be because the king found out she was a bastard? No, he didn't seem like that kind of person who would give a shit about that, but then why? The fact of not knowing anything was worse than the imprisonment. Her father probably knew, it looked that way at the feast. But she had no way of asking him as long as she was in the dungeons.

A sound from the end of the corridor woke her from her brooding. She moves closer to the bars and looked out; finally she saw a familiar figure.

"Ser Rodrik!" Never had she been so happy to see old knight.

"Hush, we must hurry before anyone notices us."

He unlocked the cell and let her out.

"Ser Rodrik, where is my father? And my siblings? Are they alright?"

"I said hush, no questions. We must leave now." He dragged her outside and towards the stables. It was night and the moon was high.

"But… where are we going?"

Two horses were waiting for them and a furcloak laid on one of the saddles.

"To Greywater Watch. To Howland Reed, an old friend of your father's. now hurry, we don't have time to talk."

She hesitated. "But my father.."

"Don't worry about him. Lord Stark and the king are like brothers, no harm will come to him." It was obvious ser Rodrik were trying to convince himself as much as her. "Now hurry!"

Still full of doubt, Helena put the cloak around her shoulders and pulled up the hood. Ser Rodrik had already mounted his horse and when Helena finally sat up, he rode out from Winterfell with the young girl following behind him.

XxX

Ned woke up as Robert stormed into his chamber, red with anger.

"Where is she?!"

Ned calmly looked at him.

"Where is who?"

"That damn dragonspawn, tell me where she is!"

"I don't remember having any 'dragonspawn' here."

"Don't play games with me, Ned, I'm not in the mood. Now tell me where that slut is!"

"What if I don't? She is pack, Robert, and pack stick together."

"She's a fucking Targaryen not a Stark! A bastard born of rape! How can you protect that thing?!"

Now Ned became angry too. He stood up.

"She is my blood and I will protect her even if I die doing so!"

An eerie calmness overtook Robert.

"We'll see about that, old friend." With those words he spun around and left the room.


End file.
